Metus
by Shapstik
Summary: As a young padawan flees from a Sith ambush on his encampment, we are introduced to a new, unspoken threat that lurks within the network of heroes and villains that scatter the infamous Battle of Ruusan. The first of three parts to a short story entitled 'Metus', which translates from the Latin word for 'fear', and inspired by Karpyshyn's Bane trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter One: The Ruusan Pursuit_**

The speeder gasped its final breath and slowed to a stop on the brow of a hill, next to what looked like an abandoned Ruusanian shelter. Fuel cell warning lights danced across the panel in front of Needa's eyes and the young Jedi cursed, before leaping out of the vehicle. He breathed heavily as Ruusan's suns beat their harsh rays onto the smooth metal of the speeder, baking and suffocating the air around him. Flinging the hood of his brown cloak back and squinting against the sky, Needa moved his dark brown hair away from his eyes and wiped his brow. His face and cloak were covered in dust from the journey, and he used his sleeve to wipe his face. His soft features had aged many years in the last hour, and his skin looked worn and caked in the dust of the coarse Ruusan desert.

The young captain had been stationed at an encampment, a final warning system on the edge of the Arkine Forest before the long stretch of desert that led to the main Jedi outpost. But without warning his company had been attacked by a group of mercenaries loyal to the Sith. They were led by a cruel and malicious enemy, who had single handedly torn through their defences, opening the way for his troops to cut through the camp. Needa knew that the encampment was the last line of defence before Outpost 5, which could not, no, _must _not be lost if the Jedi were to finally eradicate the Sith from the eastern borders. Overrun, their communications were soon destroyed, and his master ordered him into the last remaining speeder to warn Outpost 5 of the Sith betrayal. Needa swallowed hard as he remembered his master's final order before he himself was cut down by blaster fire. Needa had cried out in pain and anguish before he had turned and fled, abandoning the screams of his friends and comrades. Despite the desperateness of the situation and his master's final order, Needa regretted not standing and fighting. Even now, as his dark green eyes desperately searched the horizon for signs of the outpost, he knew that the guilt would plague his memories forever. Suddenly a reassuring noise from the speeder's communications panel interrupted his thoughts:

"...self. Repeat, this is outpost 5 West, please identity yourse..." A dry voice crackled over the radio.

Needa hurried over and pushed down hard on the SEND button: "Outpost 5, this is captain Needa, please come in". Needa waited for a response, but the speeder just returned static that hung in the dry air. "Outpost 5, do you read? Outpost 6 is down, overrun, repeat overrun. Prepare for imminent assault on your position, do you..." Suddenly a small spark jumped from the panel and Needa fell back, holding his hand up to his face. A small trail of electrified smoke signalled the end of the conversation. _If there was one, _Needa thought.

Taking a deep breath, Needa reached into the back of the speeder and searched for the long range visor. It was well hidden and beads of sweat ran down the Jedi's face as he rummaged. He exhaled deeply as his fingers found the cool metal and he gladly pushed himself away from the baking speeder, before turning west, holding the visor to his face. The view he had was of a long uneven track that wound its way through the jagged rocks that scattered the desert, as they reached up to the suns like thirsty tongues. Needa licked his dry lips as he rotated slowly to the left, until he found what he was looking for. He smiled to himself as his eyes locked onto the faint shimmering outline of the Outpost's entrance. The site itself was not in view, but he knew that the outpost was only a short journey up the hill. _At least five more miles to the entrance_ he thought. Quickly calculating the time in his head he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. _I can make it there in two hours on foot. But there may be a way to get the speeder working given time. If I just..._

Suddenly a small push interrupted his thoughts, like a small and silent change in expression during a conversation. Needa was still a young Jedi, with much to learn, but he recognised the power of a Sith warrior when he felt it. Spinning round he hurried back over to the speeder and lifted the visor to his eyes again, this time facing east back towards the encampment. Through the dust covered lenses, he saw a small trail of yellow smoke moving slowly across the desert, heading straight for his position. _What is that?_ Needa wondered, furrowing his brow. Adjusting the zoom on the visor, Needa focused the view and saw in horror as a small but discernible black figure moved in front of the dust, tearing a line across the yellow sand like a blade on fabric. _But he's moving so kriffin fast!_, muttered the Jedi aloud. Panicking, he ran back to the speeder and punched the start up button whilst grabbing the throttle lever with both hands, frantically trying to get the aged Mark IV started. Forgetting his training he allowed frustration to get the better of him, and after failed attempts he slammed his hand against the display, the pain rushing up his hand, waking him up.

_Patience, _said his master's voice in his head. Needa listened and took a calming breath before getting out of the vehicle again. He could not escape. Exposed on the top of a hill he knew what he had to do. Sitting down and crossing his legs, he closed his eyes and began to gather his thoughts, his mind, allowing the power of the force to flow like a river between all the parts of his body. As he did this, Needa slowly pulled the cool hilt of his lightsaber, given to him by his master, out from under his cloak and allowed it to rest in his hand.

One of the first lessons his master had instilled in Needa was to never allow the trust in his ability to falter. _But d__o not let this be confused with arrogance young Needa_, his master would say, _for this is an ally of the Sith. Instead, simply remember that your full power and potential can only be found once you shed all of your regret, your remorse. All of your fear._

_Patience_, said his master's voice again, this time Needa joined it with his own, moving the word across his lips. He could feel the power of the Sith getting stronger and stronger with each passing moment. But there was something else. The approaching enemy seemed to be using the force to tug and pull at Needa's thoughts, breaking through his concentration. _No_, Needa realised, _taking something._

Needa ignored it and concentrated on his master's voice, his teaching, but every time he did the memories were stolen and replaced by an image of his master falling, holding out his hand and reaching for Needa's help. To the Jedi's horror, the image also began to fill with all the faces of the others he had left behind and abandoned. Suddenly losing all hope, Needa's hand opened and his lightsaber tumbled from his grasp onto the sand under his feet, as his eyes filled with the tears of regret. The Sith's power robbed the young Jedi of his training, stole his hope, replacing it with all that lay suppressed and hidden in the Jedi. Needa's lip trembled as he became consumed with loss and fear. Lowering his head he covered his face with his hands as he became inexplicably overwhelmed with shame, his resolve weakening to emptiness with every shaking breath.

The next thing that Needa heard was the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber being ignited just metres from where he sat.


	2. Chapter 2

Survival instinct forced Needa's eyes open at the electric sound of the galaxy's deadliest weapon. Shaking with unfettered emotion from the guilt of letting his comrades fall, Needa looked up through tear-stained eyes and saw the silhouette of a hooded figure running up the side of the hill toward him. Black and as thin as a ghost, the Sith's unmistakable dark robes flapped against the wind as it sped up the slope, holding its blood red lightsaber out to the side as it ran.

Frozen with fear, Needa glanced down unrecognisably for a moment at his own weapon, sitting idly in the sand only inches from where he sat. In that brief moment he knew as a Jedi he had already lost. With all his hope drained, all his belief in the light had dissipated and stretched so thin, it had fallen out of his mind's grasp. Perhaps a Jedi Master may have been able to fight back against this new enemy and retain the light, but not him. The Sith had left him no choice. He knew what he must do.

Needa's green eyes turned from light to dark, glazing over as he focussed inwards and began to embrace his recent loss. Fresh guilt clawed at his mind as he channelled his raw anger and a hidden dark energy began to flow and vibrate in his blood. An energy that without Sith training ran unchecked wildly throughout his body. Being suddenly both free of fear and a slave of hate, he quickly grasped his weapon without even looking down. The enemy may have stolen his Jedi training on a mental level, but his combat skills were still fresh in his muscles from the tough last year at the Academy of Light. Full of rage and gritting his teeth, he sprang to his feet and ignited his blue saber in one quick motion, lifting his head to face this new and cruel foe.

But his eyes widened in surprise and horror as he saw that the Sith was already twenty feet off the ground, flying deadly and silently through the air towards him. For a moment, Needa first saw the face of his enemy. Barely visible under his hood, the Sith's thin features grinned almost casually as he soared through the hot air toward him, the back of his robe violently vibrating against the hot breath of the Ruusan desert. Holding his own breath, Needa gripped the hilt of his lightsaber and swiftly turned the blade into a horizontal position at the last moment, before the full impact of the Sith's downward charge came crashing upon him. The clash of weapons let out a loud hissing sound, sending a mixture of sparks from Needa's blue weapon and the Sith's red. The Sith's jagged features were now much more visible as the two enemies glared at each other from across the crossed blades. Bathed in his saber's red light, the Sith licked his lips and leaned in, putting unbearable pressure onto the young Jedi.

But by allowing the new feelings of hate and anger to rise within, Needa grimaced and slowly stood to his full height until he was glowering menacingly down at the Sith's deceivingly diminutive figure. Using this to his advantage, the Sith slowly crouched down and swept Needa's legs out from under him, breaking the lethal embrace. The Jedi came crashing down on to his back, the wind instantly knocked out of his lungs and leaving him facing the sky, blinded by the glare of Ruusan's double suns. The light was immediately blocked out by the silhouette of the Sith leaning over him, weapon held high above his head, ready to smash down on Needa again.

Just in time, Needa spun away along the ground, a cloud of dust left in his wake. More sparks covered his cloak as the Sith's blade made a muffled hiss as it missed and hit the ground. Needa scrambled back to his feet, panting and sweating profusely. The raw and unrecognisable emotion poured through his veins, leaving him breathless and drained. Seeing this, the Sith turned to face him, grinning slightly and swinging his saber in a figure of eight as he casually strode back towards the Jedi, the weapon emitting a pulsating hum with each rotation.

Sweat dripped into Needa's eyes and he wiped his brow and tried desperately to assess his enemy, looking for logic lost within the swirl of anger that coursed through his veins. But the Sith simply smiled back, looking relaxed and untouched. Needa then realised the true desperation of his position. _He's playing with me_, he thought. Suddenly, the Sith stopped, cocking his head slightly to one side, as if listening. A look of satisfaction spread across its face, and he stopped advancing and instead began pacing back and forth, waiting for Needa to make the next move.

Needa swallowed hard. His throat felt scratchy in the dry air and his breathing had become sporadic. Not only this, but the blood in his veins felt, poisoned, somehow. _I cannot control this_, he thought. He felt exposed, raw and vulnerable. _Yet there is something else_, Needa thought. _I feel_...

"More powerful?" the Sith finished, that soulless smile again appearing through the shadow on his face.

Needa froze and the assassin stopped pacing. They stood for a moment, only meters apart, but separated by leagues of experience and oceans of control. In the heat of the desert and in the midst of war, Needa began to understand what this creature was. Everything a Jedi could fear, this thing, this Sith, could harness the power to read minds. _And control them_, Needa thought.

_But he can't take my allegiance. That's a choice_...

In this last thought, Needa suddenly realised that he could not embrace the dark side if it might lead him to the Brotherhood of Darkness. He still believed in the Army of Light and he would rather be dead than join their ranks of evil. _I have always believed in the cause of the Jedi. This creature cannot take that away from me, I must retain the light_...

_Focus Needa_... His master's voice whispered in the darkness of his mind. _Do not forget your destiny as a Jedi, for it is your chosen path._

With the dark side still running through his veins, Needa furrowed his brow and focussed his mind back to the light once more, gathering the last remnant from his mind as he tried desperately to reach back to his training and his master's words. But the moment he did, it caused a blinding pain in his head, which spread across his face and made his mouth fill with blood. The Sith watched quietly, its grin widening as he saw the first trickle of blood fall from Needa's lip.

Grimacing, the young Jedi wiped his mouth with his free hand before spitting his blood onto the sand. "Enough", he said. Standing up straight, he extinguished his weapon and stared at the Sith. "This will not work my friend" he said in a certain but shaky voice, "for I am a child of the light, and only it can guide my hand."

Its smile fading for a moment, the Sith paused and looked back at Needa, scanning the features of the Jedi. Needa's skin crawled as he felt the Sith's eyes move over his body and face, feeling his dark power working its way through his body and his mind. The Sith's face went placid as his eyes moved back and forth, as if looking for something hidden away. Silence hung in the air for a moment, and the wind whipped Needa's hair onto his face as the wind moved across the top of the hill. Suddenly, as if finding the key to a lock, the Sith smiled again and whispered:

"Your master wept in his final moments. Like a child". He grinned again, his teeth glinting in the sunlight. "Can you see...?"

Needa's mind suddenly filled with the cries of his comrades once again. He saw his master wailing and holding out his hand, his face burning alive as his fingers reached out in unbearable desperation. "No!" Needa screamed as his feelings filled with anger and loss once more. But it was too late. His face contorted, unrecognisable from the hopeful young man that had walked into the academy. He ignited his weapon again, his young face and green eyes bathed in the cool blue of the light saber, before screaming in rage and charging at the Sith.

But the dark figure simply grinned satisfactorily at the Jedi's sudden change of emotion before leaping deftly up into the air; high above the arcing slice of the Jedi's lightsaber as Needa came running in for an overhand swipe. The Sith landed in the dust behind the Jedi, kicking up a cloud of yellow mist. He stood and turned to face Needa: "Good", he said calmly, "use your fear, do not hesitate as it will be your undoing. Break from the shackles of the Jedi order and become all you can be. For it will set you free."

Feeling agile and light from the dark side vibrating quickly through his arms and legs, Needa spun round in an instant, flicking his saber back to attack position above his head. This time, he aimed his blade directly at the Sith, before sprinting forward again for another charge.

This time the Sith did not move. "You are a misguided fool who only knows the teachings of foolish priests" he said with distaste. And with that he reached out his free hand and squeezed his fingers together in the empty air.

Needa suddenly felt his throat close shut tight and stopped in mid-run, letting his saber tumble to the ground as his hands instinctively went to his neck. He gasped and struggled, clawing at the invisible fingers that were wrapped around his neck. Panicking, he raked helplessly at his throat as he breathlessly whispered, "please..."

Ignoring his pleas the Sith stepped closer to Needa, pushing his fingers further together as he did so. "There is no pride in defeat", he said through clenched teeth. Hardly moving the rest of his body, the Sith lifted his arm slowly and with it Needa's feet also began to rise above the ground. Fresh panic danced across Needa's face as he looked down at his feet as they dangled helplessly just above the sand.

"Now you will feel the real power of the force" the Sith said, "the real future of the galaxy". With that he violently threw his arm upwards in the air, splaying his fingers and bursting into cruel laughter. There was a harsh ripping sound as Needa flew upwards through the air, leaving a cloud of Ruusan dust and sand swirling and dancing in his wake.

The wind whistled in Needa's ears as he continued to climb upwards in the sky, clawing at his neck and treading thin air at the same time. His eyes scanned around and he saw in horror as the desert quickly became distant and out of focus. He must have been a hundred feet in the air as his body continued upwards, his robes flapping wildly as he struggled to breath.

Just as he thought his next breath would be his last, the invisible hand around his neck released and he gasped loudly, sucking in the thin but humid air, colour returning to his face. He hovered momentarily silent in mid-air, before the inevitable decline back to earth began. Panicking again, he looked down as the wind threw his hair upwards as he plummeted down to the planet's surface. His speeder began to come back into focus below him, as he started falling towards the shelter faster than blaster fire.

Trying desperately to remember his training, he focussed all his energy and gathered his strength to create a cushion with the force as best he could. But with panic and the dark side still dominating him, he struggled to focus as he closed in on the wooden hut. In a last attempt to save himself, he closed his eyes and held his palms out flat, aiming at the ground. Concentrating hard, he began to feel a force bubble forming in the few remaining feet below him. He felt his body slowing, but he soon realised it was not enough. The last thing he heard before crashing into the wooden hut was the tormenting laughter of his foe. With a thunderous impact, splinters and nails flew in every direction as Needa broke through the roof, breaking his arm against a beam, spinning him in the air before landing on his back, the wind flying out of his lungs once again.

As the dust settled, Needa slowly opened his eyes to see he was lying on his side, looking through piles of rubble and wood. Through the mist and dust, he could see the Sith had stopped laughing and had begun walking back towards his broken body, using its dark powers to pull the splinters and chunks of wood away from Needa, exposing his body in the sun. Piece by piece, the splinters and nails flew away into the air, as the Sith grew ever larger. He could hear the footsteps of this dark enemy crunching the dirt in front of his eyes as the Sith used a gesture with his hand to remove the last of the wood.

Free from the debris, Needa began slowly to get to his feet in a last determined stand against this terrible foe. The Sith stopped for a moment, almost admiring the stubbornness of Needa. The young Jedi got to his feet and drew himself tall despite the pain in his arm. He didn't know whether the Sith's influence had loosened or not, or whether pure desperation had forced him to attempt one last stand, but with body broken and without his vital weapon he know there was only one thing he could do.

In one last attempt to survive, Needa reached inwards with the force and focussed his mind. Needa knew a forbidden but powerful tool in the Jedi arsenal. Knowing it could be his last thought, Needa reached into his heart and pulled every single last piece of energy in his body to create a force pulse that would potentially decimate most enemies. Banned by the Army of Light, due to its unpredictability in battle and its exhaustion of the Jedi that used it, it had been secretly taught to Needa by his mentor's brother, Koorin Unn.

Screaming like a Twilek child without his milk, he extended his arms forward and released all the force in his body and mind. The moment he did, the air in front of Needa began to warp and twitch like fabric, enveloping the gap between them as it grew quickly in size, distorting space like a tidal surge in the seas. Through the pulse, there was a moment when the Jedi saw the distorted image of the Sith grimacing coldly as he saw what was coming, just before the pulse slammed into his enemy with the force of fifty banthas. The collision sent a shockwave back towards Needa, throwing him backwards onto the ground, sending a new wave of pain up his arm as he landed.

Exhausted and finally drained of all force energy, dark and light, Needa, sat up, hoping the Sith was laying there, body broken and torn. But as the air between them returned to normal, he saw the cruel, untouched image of his foe's smile looking back at him.

"No..." Needa whispered, falling to his knees and shaking his head. Suddenly knowing his final moment had come, he closed his eyes and lowered his head. "Make it quick, I beg of you."

Holding his breath he waited for the electric hum of the weapon that would end his life. But there was only silence. When there was no reply Needa opened his eyes to see the Sith had instead sat down on the earth, his own eyes also closed. Its weapon was tucked back into its robe and he sat crossed legged, the wind gently whispering between them. A bird flew overhead and the sand danced across the floor. Silence hung in the air for a moment before the Sith spoke again:

"There is no sport left for me here you foolish boy", the Sith announced dramatically. "Go find your Jedi friends" he sighed, "tell them to prepare for my coming. Move quickly, for it will be soon and I am impatient to find a worthy adversary before the sun sets".

Needa was stunned by the Sith's mercy. _Or it is pity?_ He thought. Either way, the idea of abandoning the fight again was terrible to bear, but the force was a dwindling light inside him after using the forbidden pulse and he knew there was still honour left in finding the Jedi Outpost and warning them of this new danger. _And the loss of the Outpost 6_, he thought.

Holding his arm, he slowly got back to his feet, the dust clinging stubbornly to his brown robes as he stumbled slightly through exhaustion. Lifting his chin and taking one last glance at his weapon lying on the ground, he turned and fled across the desert towards Outpost 5.


	3. Chapter 3 Preview

**Jedi Ambush**

Colonel Katann stood with his arms folded, a look of deep concern written across his hard features as he watched the medidroid fuse the bone in the young man's upper arm. Picked up by a routine patrol around the perimeter, the boy was found, arm broken and lying unconscious in the lower sands on-route to the Republic command outpost. He was immediately brought to the medical tent and the Colonel was alerted.

The truth was, nobody knew who the boy was or where he came from. He wore the robes of a Jedi, but he was almost unrecognisable with all the scratches, splinters and desert dust that covered his body. _Lord Kaan's spies are everywhere, _Katann reminded himself, _trust is indeed a rare jewel in these dark times. _The robot's metallic arm whirred and ticked as it passed the laser back and forth across the skin. The slightest smell of singed hair mixed with the dusty humidity inside the tent and the Colonel lifted a gloved finger to his nose.

Captain Abunka came over and joined him, his wiry figure dwarfed by Katann's heavy frame as they both stood there looking at the figure lying motionless on the bed. "I don't like this Colonel," Abunka muttered behind his hand as he also covered his nose from the odour, "what was he doing wandering alone in the desert? I tell you, he was lucky we found him on long range scanners when we did, this merciless desert will eat you up and spit you out before long." Abunka took his hand away and turned to the Colonel. "And where's his weapon?" He asked, staring at the side of Katann's face, "did they find one when they picked him up?".

Ignoring him, the Colonel grunted routinely and scratched his chin. Abunka became jittery when mystery presented itself, and it made Katann nervous to be around him. But dark rumours of the Brotherhood had found their way into the ears of many soldiers like Abunka in recent days, and Katann knew the pressures of battle all too well. The war of attrition that had fallen upon Ruusan's dry plains and scorched forests was taking its toll on both sides. Apparently the Order were planning a big offensive with Supreme Command to finally break the deadlock, but the Colonel felt it may just come too late. _Something has to give soon, _he mused, as he watched the droid continue its work.

Abunka opened his mouth to ask another question, but before he could the door to the tent was thrown open and Master Jenai Sharill appeared in the sunlight. Long dark hair covered most of her azure features as the harsh winds tore through the base outside. Both men turned their heads and watched the Zabrak stoop slightly before stepping inside, the Jedi's tall thin frame filling the air as she stood up straight.

"Still no contact with Outpost 6, nor the tertiary bunker in the East Forest," Jenai announced quietly to Colonel Katann, blinking gently as the desert sand fell from her eyes. "But Captain Shilm still believes it could be a transmitter failure. The low pressure dust storms of this region are, after all, quite random and severely disruptive to communications".

"Very good Master Sharill", Katann replied, nodding at the Jedi.

Jenai spotted Needa lying in the bed, his arm now being wrapped in heavy bandages, and furrowed her brow.

"Do you know this boy?," the Colonel demanded.

"I do" Jenai replied softly. "His name is Needa Ghul, a young padawan of Master Cyyala." She gracefully walked over to Needa and laid a hand gently on his brow. "Cyyala was stationed at Outpost 6, was he not Colonel?"

"Yes Jenai", said Katann slowly, his eyes widening,"he was".

The Jedi leaned closer and placed her other hand on Needa's dusty cheek. He shifted slightly at her touch and murmured to himself. Closing her eyes Jenai bowed her head, a look of deep concentration appearing on her face as her ebony hair fell gently over her cheeks. Katann and Abunka watched intently as the Jedi master did her work, her ability to attune to another's force was renowned throughout the Galaxy. The medidroid paused its programme and the tent fell silent as all eyes looked at Jenai.

Suddenly the Jedi quickly pulled her hands away and inhaled sharply, her eyes flying open-wide as she stepped back.

"What is it?!", Katann whispered sharply.

When she did not respond the Colonel moved over and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. Jenai flinched and spun her head around, staring back intently. "I believe we may have a problem," she said.


End file.
